


The Forgotten Hero

by ShadowsOfBirds



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:35:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22399456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowsOfBirds/pseuds/ShadowsOfBirds
Summary: An exploration/expansion of Marianne's paralogue, "The Forgotten Hero," with an emphasis on her growth and the impact Hilda has had on her life.
Relationships: Marianne von Edmund/Hilda Valentine Goneril
Comments: 2
Kudos: 33





	1. Chapter 1

Fear coursed through every muscle in her body as she stood, paralyzed, in the center of a forest that threatened to swallow her whole. The roars of demonic beasts thundered with a ferocity that could tear the trees from their roots; each bellowing cry further stripping the forest of warmth and replacing it with the unwelcome promise of violence. By this time of night, there was nothing left but death.

The still, icy air hung her life like a question under the gaze of the largest beast she had ever seen. Where eyes should have been, there were only slits. The darkness within hid any evidence of what may have been humanity; all that was left was the decrepit shell of a life forever destroyed by powers it could not control. Her body screamed at her to run, but she knew she would not make it out alive. After all, she did not enter this forest expecting to leave. No, what she sought was beyond redemption. To know the truth of her existence, of her future, of everything her bloodline represented, she would need to journey into the den of the Beast; knowing she would never return was but an afterthought for a mind tortured by a forgotten legacy.

With a low growl that resonated below the earth, the Beast lowered its massive skull to just above the ground. It defied logic, but Marianne could not shake the feeling that the empty sockets that used to house eyes had converged on the spot where she had made her stand.

“Why have you come here…” The Beast’s voice sent a chill down Marianne’s spine. She fought the urge to shiver, unwilling to show weakness before the source of all the hatred that she had endured.

“Are you the o-one,” _Damn it, I will NOT let fear take ahold of me!_ Clearing her throat, she spoke again, channeling all the doubt, fear, and anger she felt towards herself into a voice that carried the Goddess’ conviction. “Are you the one responsible for the attacks?”

“You…” She felt the air around her rise as the Beast inhaled deeply. “You bear our Crest…”

Marianne’s heart sank. She’d known. She’d _always_ known. Despite this, it was another experience entirely to face the Curse’s puppet and hear the words of their kinship befall her.

“You will not make it out of this forest alive,” echoed around her as the Beast withdrew, its mutated body obscured by shadows.

Her hand curled into a fist at her side and she felt the sting of tears as they heated her face. Marianne had entered the forest desperate to put an end to the torment by any means necessary, and this outcome was not an unexpected one.

“Nothing will stop me…” growled the Beast. “From feasting on your flesh and blood…”

The Beast’s voice came hauntingly balanced from every direction as it toyed with what remained of Marianne’s courage.

Were this five years ago and she a different woman, this may have been enough to crush her; but not today.

The woman who stood before the Beast today had experienced compassion. She had experienced friendship that withstood the test of time. She knew what love felt like, something she had never dreamed would have become a part of her life. She may share a Crest with this Beast, but they will not share a destiny.

Her resolve filled her with a strength reminiscent of the Goddess and Marianne knew that this would _not_ be the end of her story. She called upon the spirit of her friends as wisps of frost began to form at her fingertips. She drew upon her faith as the elemental manifestation of willpower began weaving an intricate dance between her fingertips, gradually growing in force.

Most importantly, behind her eyes flashed the face of the woman who taught her that within her lies the strength to fight what the world had thrust upon her under the guise of destiny. That woman, full of laughter and enthusiasm, had brought color to Marianne’s muted existence. If she died today, she would have one regret; she would have failed Hilda.

“No.” Marianne commanded as the cascading waves of ice she had summoned pulsated around her body. Growing rapidly and taking on a weaponized form, the spell had become infused not only with the mage’s skill but with her very soul; she will not leave this earth not having told the love of her life how she had been saved by her. “I won’t let you!”

The deafening sound of the blizzard she had summoned crashed around her and she fought back the tears that chased her cathartic burst of emotion; her trained ears searched for the Beast’s footsteps, knowing it encircled her in anticipation of a strike. She saw the size of its claws, the sharpness of its fangs. She knew the demonic beasts still lurked, their lethal shadows lying in wait just beyond the Beast himself. For all of this, she was ready.

For Hilda, Marianne made a promise - she would _not_ be reunited with the Goddess tonight.


	2. Chapter 2

Digging her right heel into the earth, Marianne poured all her strength into launching her conjured ice directly into the depths of darkness before her, her accompanying screams drowned by the hiss of wind and ice. She heard the cry of a corrupted wolf as the spell cut through it, having missed its intended target. As she expected, the Beast was quicker than it’s initial impression suggested. Her guiding arm still outstretched and channeling her opening attack, she then shifted her other arm out at a 90 degree angle, projecting a second current in the direction she had last heard the Beast’s gruesome howl.

Thunderous footsteps sounded closely behind her and she abruptly halted both streams of ice, dropping down on one knee and crossing her arms in an X in front of her chest, summoning two crystalline shields that mimicked the motion she had made. Cold emanated from the crystals and chilled Marianne’s exposed neck and ears, but her temperature-induced discomfort was brief as the shattering impact of claws on ice knocked her to the ground. She landed on her shoulder and grimaced in pain. Rolling over onto her back, she forcefully thrust both palms parallel with her body and desperately called upon Cutting Gale to propel her out from below the broken ice and the Beast’s imminent strike. She felt the tremor as its curled fist struck the earth where she lay moments ago and breathed in sharply, only adrenaline keeping her from dissolving into a fit of fearful tears.

A guttural laugh emanated from the belly of the Beast, Marianne’s skin crawling in response. Looming overhead, the Beast did not immediately approach her, instead sitting back on its haunches and hungrily locking its focus on Marianne. She had never felt as vulnerable as she did in that moment.

The Beast’s words came in growls. “You cannot hope to win this fight.”

Marianne knew it was not a taunt or tease. The Beast did not even toy with her, all it needed to do was speak the truth of her situation and it was enough. She watched in horror as the second crystal she had summoned was crushed by the Beast’s claw in a demonstration of power. Out of her peripheral vision she noticed a demonic beast emerge, its tongue dangling out of its mouth, restraining itself only to avoid overstepping and angering the Beast.

Marianne weighed her options. She could make an attempt to run, and hope that she could summon thick enough clouds of frost to hide herself. _If the Beast doesn’t catch me, the demonic beasts still could. Or the wolves,_ she thought as the howl of a wolf sounded from out of sight.

She could negotiate. _To what end, though? What use am I to this Beast? What value does our shared Crest bring me? A lifelong curse would not miraculously become my safety now._ She felt anger flare up within her at the cards she had been dealt in this life. _This is not a fairytale, and the Beast will not be swayed._

She could double down on offense and continue to fight. This consideration brought a sickness to her stomach. _I don’t know how much more I have in me. I…_

The realization hit her like a punch.

_I can’t do this alone._

She forced herself to her feet, yet the Beast still did not move. _It doesn’t consider me a threat._ Breathing heavily, she began casting again, not entirely sure if her goal was to fight, stall or flee. The Beast leaned forward, allowing its weight to shake the ground as it returned to its 4-legged stance. It took slow steps towards her, seemingly enjoying each step backward she took in response.

“My blood flows within your veins and commands you to fight,” the Beast’s words felt… almost proud.

Marianne hated it. She hated everything about this Beast and what it stood for. She was contemplating a desperate, spiteful ploy to pierce the Beast’s eye slit when a rapidly approaching aerial object appeared above the heights of the trees. At the sight of wings angling to control its dive, Marianne identified the object as a wyvern, and she froze; she fought the reflexive swell of hope in her chest, afraid of the disappointment if her guess is incorrect.

She didn’t need to wonder for long.

The roar of the wyvern echoed above as the Beast’s attention broke from Marianne to assess the threat overhead. She did not waste a moment.

Sprinting forward, she cried out as the frost formed a dynamic javelin, several spikes of ice jutting out at varying angles, and threw it at the side of the Beast’s head with an undercut. The Beast staggered and hesitated, hissing in frustration as it struggled to monitor both enemies above and below. Ultimately deciding Marianne was closer, it swung its head around and snapped its jaws, narrowly missing Marianne as she slid below it, flattening her back and riding the momentum of her run. Warding off claws with an assault of sharp winds, she received a moment of respite when an anguished cry escaped the Beast and rolled out from below it in time to witness the now close enough to see wyvern’s rider regaining altitude. She saw the axe first, illuminated by the moonlight and nearly as large as one of the wyvern’s wings, followed by the wild pink hair that could only belong to Hilda.

Marianne felt as if her emotions could explode within her. A blend of love for the woman and relief at the sight of her gripped her heart first, but were quickly twisted by a nauseating fear. She was glad that she had become the kind of person someone like Hilda would dive into the den of a Beast for, yet the thought of jeopardizing Hilda’s life like this overwhelmed her to the point she felt the urge to throw up.

The Beast’s claws slashed the air below the wyvern, whose expert maneuvers kept it just agile enough to evade the onslaught of attacks. Marianne snapped back to attention and iced over the ground beneath the Beast. When Hilda’s wyvern made its next dive, the Beast moved to lash out and lost its balance, crashing down with an infuriated roar. A disorienting shriek signaled the Beast’s quick recovery as it instead targeted Marianne. Using its claws to maintain its grip on the earth, it pursued her with a furious speed Marianne had not yet seen; she knew the Beast’s lax approach to her demise had been replaced by an aggravated one and she stabbed at its feet with spears of ice in a futile attempt to slow it down.

Its breath smelled of death and looking within its rapidly approaching jaws, Marianne saw only darkness. Ice spears failing and the Beast about to crush her, Marianne lamented that she had made it so far, only to be swallowed by the Curse now. Her entire body tensed in anticipation.

She shut her eyes and uttered one final whisper.

“Hilda, I’m sorry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first attempt at this kind of combat. I hope it reads well!


	3. Chapter 3

She wondered if it would hurt. Would monstrous jaws sever her body, letting her end come quickly? Or would the Goddess make her suffer? Will the Goddess use this as a means for Marianne to atone for all the pain she had caused others throughout her lifetime? _It is somewhat poetic how I spent my entire life ruled by this Curse only to be destroyed the moment I decide to fight._

Eyes still closed, Marianne feels the force of the wind as it nearly unbalances her; with blue robes whipping at her ankles and her hair coming undone, she instinctively brings her arms up to protect her face. 

“MARIANNE!”

Her eyes snapped open to the sight of the Beast directly before her, and Marianne feels her heart freeze in her chest. Unable to move, she watches in what seems like slow motion as the wyvern overhead skims the armored back of the Beast. A small figure leaps from the wyvern in a forward arc towards the Beast’s skull, possessing the speed and lethality of a stooping falcon. Marianne’s breath catches in her throat.

_Is that… Hilda?_

Uninhibited by armor – Hilda always did favor a more revealing outfit – the rapidly approaching axe-wielder unleashes a battle cry that widens Marianne’s eyes and creates the briefest of hesitations in the Beast. Before it can react, the formidable weight of Freikugal buries itself in a bloody mess of the Beast’s now fractured skull and rotting tissue. Between the ferocity of the attack and the divine nature of the weapon, the Beast collapses beneath it.

_By the grace of the Goddess..! You’re alive… You can breathe now._ Marianne reminded herself, releasing the majority of her tension through a forced exhale.

With a calculated curve of its tail and beat of its wings, Hilda’s wyvern had retreated to the safety of the sky, leaving her to hurdle off of the motionless Beast onto the ground where Marianne stood. Signs of exertion followed as she landed with a palm to the ground for balance, and felt the lengths of her ponytail cascading around her face to stick to the beads of sweat that had formed.

“Marianne,” Hilda was breathless, but surprisingly stern. “Don’t you ever… _ever-“_

_“_ I-I know-“

“ _EVER-“_

Hilda’s rising volume was cut off by Marianne’s tackle-like hug; she staggered a foot back to keep the two of them from falling before raising her own arms to reciprocate the affection. She hears a soft “I’m sorry” escape Marianne’s lips. Hilda grips Marianne’s shoulders and leans back to meet her eyes.

“I would love to sit here and talk, but…” Biting her lip, Hilda’s eyes scan their surroundings to find one demonic beast and three giant wolves. The Beast lay still, allowing the other creatures of the forest to approach without caution. The wolves’ growls echoed between the trees while the demonic beast emitted a far less natural sound, a reminder of its foundation in magical corruption. Marianne gripped Hilda’s wrist with an uncharacteristic urgency and searched for an escape route.

“Wait, Mari, I need Freikugal!” Hilda objected, wiggling free and hastily climbing the mountainous body of the Beast to reclaim her weapon. As Marianne nervously glanced around to monitor the threats, she caught a glimpse of a familiar glow; making quick but minute bobbing movements, the glow appeared to dance its way through the darkness.

“Hilda!”

“What,” grunted a frustrated Hilda, currently using both hands and a foot for leverage in removing her axe. A series of expletives made their way out of her as her attempts continued to fail, the axe unyielding in its position.

“Look!” Marianne was on the tips of her toes, pointing in the direction of the glow. It maintained a pace that was not inhuman, but still made Marianne uneasy. _Please be a friend. Please be a friend. Please be a friend._

Hilda paused her struggles with Freikugal to glance back down at Marianne. Disarmed and at a distance, she could do naught but scream, “BEHIND YOU!” In the hopes that Marianne would turn around.

Startled by the alarm in her companion’s voice, Marianne reflexively looks first at the source; fabricated visions of Hilda’s short, muscular frame ensnared in combat with an enemy bombarded her, clouding her ability to process Hilda’s actual words. _Wait… Hilda looks okay… what happened?!_

A pain like none she’d ever felt struck her in the back of the head and reverberated throughout her entire body, launching her forwards into the dirt and grass several feet away. She found herself stunned, only able to situate herself on her hands and knees before the pulsing pressure in her brain demanded so much of her consciousness that she couldn’t process any further movement. Hilda’s hysterics registered as little more than a blur in her peripheral, her vision now obscured by tears. Her thoughts had become fragmented, reduced to unanswerable questions and phrases. _W-what… Goddess, my head… W-where did… So much p-pain… St-stand! ..Can’t s-stand…_

The duration of her incapacitation felt like an eternity. Her body threatened to fully collapse and her brain was liable to shut down from the shock of the blow. In her daze she heard the Beast’s words clearer than her own thoughts. “You will not make it out of this forest alive.”

“N-no…” Her protest came weakly, both in volume and conviction. Despite the failure in her voice, her spirit had screamed its indignation.

With an incontestable _NO!_ A spark of newfound power made a fleeting appearance in the far reaches of Marianne’s pool of arcane energy. Yet the echoes of the Beast persisted. “Nothing will stop me from feasting on your flesh and blood.”

Driven by the desire to regain ownership of her mind, Marianne emphasized the emotions behind her words, _I WON’T LET YOU!_ As her forceful cry expelled the last of the tormenting thoughts.

Where self-deprecation and fear had been, Marianne expected emptiness. To her surprise, a warmth filled her instead; originating in her chest and spreading until the sensation overwhelmed all of her senses with an indescribable aura, the warmth simultaneously erased the physical trauma of the attack and imbued her with an offensive energy that begged for release.

Finally back on her feet, she faced the direction her attacker had struck her from and immediately realized why she hadn’t been finished off in what would have been an easy follow-up attack. Maintaining her ground with a defensive stance and equipped with the Sword of the Creator in her right hand, the girls’ peerless professor Byleth had eliminated a demonic beast – _perhaps that is the one that attacked me_ – and had two giant wolves at bay. The question of who else may have arrived popped into Marianne’s mind just in time for it to be erased by another.

_HILDA!_


End file.
